


Incendia

by vanishing_apples



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, not at belial's hand but still, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 08:26:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15792780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanishing_apples/pseuds/vanishing_apples
Summary: Lucilius subjected an entire village's population to his experimental whims. For once, he almost had to bear the consequences of his actions.Kind-of continuation of another fic, but reading that one for context isn't necessary (see notes).





	Incendia

**Author's Note:**

> The extension to [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15040772) summoner/demon AU that no one asked for. A decade and a half after Lucilius' resurrection, their relationship had transformed considerably, to say the least. Belial still remained as devoted as ever, and Lucilius just as aloof with the stunted emotional maturity of a ten year old. Despite the description this isn't as serious as I just made it out to be, promise.

Blackened blood sprayed from Lucilius’ mouth in hacking coughs as the fifth foot landed in his abdomen. He had long ceased to register new sources of pain, once the initial blows’ effect had radiated widely enough through his body. Everything that followed was all but a dull, wholesale assault on every one of his nerve endings. 

Grimy fingers entangled themselves into blood-caked locks of silver hair, yanking his head upward. Lucilius simply let himself be manhandled, limp as a ragdoll.

“Anything to say for yourself before facing the gallows, you witch?”

The man’s last two syllables were spit in his face like a curse. Lucilius didn’t even blink, clouded blue eyes sluggishly scanned the angry crowd with his neck movement more or less immobilised. His dainty nose scrunched up in disgust. Even when his field of vision shrank as it vignetted with red, he could still smell them all. 

They reeked. Each and everyone of them. Of grief and murderous intent aimed squarely at his throat. Some of them wailing like livestock in a slaughterhouse, some snarling obscenities through their teeth like cornered game. Truly, no different from a herd of miserable cattle good for nothing but experimentation. If he had had the strength for it, Lucilius would have keeled over in laughter. He thankfully could still muster a chuckle, at least. One just loud and forceful enough to send blood foaming from cracked lips and the crowd into a scandalised, uproarious frenzy. 

“He’s mocking us! That bastard!”

“You heard that!? Saw that complete lack of remorse!?”

“Hurry and string him up already! Make him pay!”

“Kill him! Kill the witch!!”

A sharp yelp fell from Lucilius’ lips when he was hoisted up by the arms and ruthlessly dragged towards the gallows, thunderous cries for his blood tailing close behind. He couldn’t even tell when his badly scraped feet left the ground to meet the crude wooden platform, or when the noose slipped around his neck. Legs drained of all strength, tension from the coarse rope alone was the only thing that kept Lucilius standing - head tilted at an odd angle and half-swinging in place. The outrage changed to cheers at the promise of his demise. 

_Pathetic._ The fools and their laughable attempts at hurting him. Death was a familiar acquaintance of his. It would take much more than these pitiful shoves at Lucilius towards the cold embrace his old friend to even faze him. Maggots. Like the rest of this world, they _bored_ him to no end. All of them vapid. Inconsequential _Disappointing._

Lucilius felt his insides twist with severe annoyance. Disappointment at the prospect of his life culminating in such a banal, predictable manner; at himself for allowing it to happen so; and at _that damned demon_ in particular. He sure as hell wasn’t afraid, nor had he any expectations of being rescued. Lucilius was simply, utterly _disappointed_. All that talk about being his shield was all lies. Had Belial truly been as devoted as his claims, he would have showed up before the third bruise could mar Lucilius’ flesh. Surely, his disapproval had always been the most effective at getting Belial to react, so if his heart grew saturated with enough resentment… 

No… He now knew better than to expect anything from a _demon_. If this hatred were to fester for some specific end, it would not be in anticipation of his arrival. He would rather curse all of humanity with it. As for Belial, he would taste Lucilius’ wrath once they were together in hell.

His cheeks were suddenly warm, stinging. Some halfwit must have scratched them in the previous bout of mindless violence he had been subjected to. 

“...and for his crimes of arson and poisoning our village's water supply, the witch shall die.”

“Kill him!!”

He took one last look at the crowd of ugly, contorted faces below him, half-heartedly expecting to find the one that seemed the slightest bit out of place. Like a disguise, but found none. The trap door swung open, and his feet were left without purchase.

Lucilius’ legs were lifted up from behind the knees. He had completely failed to register when his arms had instinctively coiled around Belial’s neck, or when they were up in the air above a gawking, petrified crowd.

“Yo, Cili. You look exquisite wearing your own blood, as expected. Can’t wait to strip it off of you, though.”

Of course, the first thing out of his mouth had to be anything _but_ an apology. Lucilius’ lips opened to unleash a flood of obscenities, but they were immediately blocked by the demon’s mouth. Belial drank the blood from his cut tongue and lips with voracious hunger, sparing Lucilius not a single breath for insults by the time they parted.

“Just sit tight, master. I’ll take care of the rest and we’ll be home in no time.”

Belial pressed a gentle kiss into Lucilius’ dirty silver hair, knowing full well his master was too exhausted for objections. He was right. Finally feeling secure in Belial’s arms, Lucilius was already breathing softly into the crook of his neck, peacefully asleep.

\---

Soft blue light crept in between Lucilius’ eyelids, gently rousing him awake. Above him the familiar bioluminescent mushrooms pulsated as if greeting. His muscles dully ached, limbs heavy as lead but soothed by salve and carefully wrapped in gauze and his skin no longer felt like burning. The last seventy two hours seemed hardly more than a vivid nightmare. Lucilius rose from the comfort of his bed to find Belial snoring away on the couch mere steps from where he had laid. Shuffling out of the covers, he walked with unsteady legs towards the demon.

An unconscious Belial was a rare sight even to Lucilius, despite the many years they had spent together. He looked deceptively harmless: wings tucked away under his back, broad chest gently rising and falling in steady rhythm. With the constant sly grin peeled from his face, Belial seemed strikingly _human_ , had it not been for the ashy paleness of his skin giving away his true demonic nature. Lucilius stood captivated, heart aching with a twinge of regret that he didn’t have on hand a sketchbook of sort to record this atypical behaviour of Belial. The desire quickly left him, hard on the heels of a soft sigh.

And with all the force his frail body could muster, Lucilius swung his entire leg at the demon’s head. His ankle was swiftly caught in a cold grip, throwing him off balance.

“G’morning...well… evening, master. It’s been a while.” - Belial pulled Lucilius on top of himself and nuzzled his hair fondly just before he could fall flat on his face. - “Man, I was waiting forever to say that.”

Lucilius let out an irritated grunt as he laid pressed to Belial’s chest, hands furtively trying to push some distance in between them.

“...‘A while’? How long was I unconscious?”

“Little over a week. I’d never seen you sleep so soundly. Good thing too, since most of those wounds seem to have healed up nicely and look how well-rested you a-”

Belial’s lower jaw slammed into his tongue at the force of Lucilius’ headbutt. The taste of iron flooded the inside of his mouth and stars speckled his vision. Lucilius’ lithe figure nimbly slipped out of the demon’s arms in his daze. Belial caught a glimpse of his master’s face right before it was replaced with his retreating back. Lucilius was fuming with anger.

“...Cili? Are you mad?”

“How could I not when my useless, asinine servant allowed over a week’s worth of productivity to slip down the drain?”

 _And took days to find me battered and inches away from death?_ Lucilius left the latter half of his frustrations unsaid, feet unceasing on their march towards his work desk and body still clad in his nightgown. 

Had it been uttered, it would have gone to deaf ears regardless. The mere mention of “productivity” had sent a weary Belial into an uncharacteristic state of quiet indignation. Lucilius was literally about to be strung up by the neck and had acquired multiple broken bones, and his first concern upon waking was lost productivity? 

“Where do you think you’re going?” - The demon asked coldly.

“Where do you think, dimwit? I have to recover all the lost progress that could’ve been made had it not been for _your_ incompetence.”

Lucilius rebutted, his tone just as frigid. Barely making a sound as he went, Belial dashed over and took his master’s arm in an iron grip, quick as a snake. Lucilius soon found himself flung back onto his bed and trapped underneath Belial, both wrists caught above his head by but one of the demon’s hands. Healing muscles throbbed with pain from the sudden impact.

“...You can’t be serious? I’m injured.”

Lucilius knew full well the futility of struggling against the strength of a demon, especially in his enfeebled state. So he laid still, breaths shallow and cautious, like a deer with its neck trapped between a wolf’s jaws. The colours of irritation and mild fear painted on his features stretched Belial’s devilish grin all the way to his ears.

“Only makes this all the more exciting, don’t you think? I’m already hard imagining your face streaked with tears, by my hands.” 

Belial cooed into Lucilius’ bandaged neck, purposefully pushing his tongue against an area where blood had spotted through - testament to a previously open wound underneath the gauze. The instinctive jerk of Lucilius’ body went straight to his groin.

“Let go! As if your idiocy hasn’t sabotaged my work enough.”

 _Rip_. The word ‘work’ had Lucilius’ gown swiftly torn clean off his body. Chilled anger simmering underneath the demon’s predatory gaze made him shudder. 

“Too bad, this is the only way to make you relax that I know of.” - Belial said as a length of silk manifested in his hand from thin air (because of course he could do that). He used it to secure Lucilius’ wrists to the headboard. - “It’s your own fault for being difficult.”

Lucilius opened his mouth, about to spit more protests, but tumbling from his lips instead came a gasp. Belial took no time at all to bury his face in between his master’s smooth thighs, fingers digging into pale flesh hard enough to bruise. 

“Ah!”

Lucilius would never openly admit it, but Belial was aware of his master’s preference for physical torment. He knew just which buttons to press, where to apply suction, when to let his teeth graze skin and make it seem like an accident. He could tease him without granting relief until he broke down in pleading tears. 

Belial’s mouth began to leave a trail of angry red marks along the inside of Lucilius’ thigh, moving from just beside his kneecap all the way up, up, prowling further between slender legs as he re-explored familiar terrains. Every spasm of Lucilius’ body was sweeter as he went, until those exquisite thighs meet at clothed groin. Belial pressed his nose into the bulge, inhaling deeply with the full knowledge of just how much it embarrassed his master. But Lucilius himself had expected that Belial would be salivating over the slightest indications of his shame. So his teeth remained clenched to deny the demon the satisfaction. Two could play at this game. 

Alas, it did little to deter Belial from his goal. He was set on making Lucilius cry for him that day, make swallow his pride and _beg_ in repentance.

Lucilius struggled to divert his gaze from the way Belial’s warm tongue lapped at and coiled around his still-clothed penis. Practiced lips pulled at the drenched fabric, letting the amplified friction between wet cloth and sensitive skin drive Lucilius to the brink. Belial knew exactly which part was which even with Lucilius’ genitals laid concealed. He sucked, lapped and pressed with the tip of his tongue where it counted, took great pleasure in tracing the hardening outline of Lucilius’ cock as it pulsed with building heat. Belial glanced up while his mouth remained hard at work, drinking up every morsel of shame that flared up Lucilius’ face and ears in a deep blush that glowed pink. Denied utterance, pleasure and indignation trickled out the cracks of Lucilius’ stoic facade in winces, wobbly lips and sharp exhales through his nose. Before long, salted bitterness was on Belial’s tongue. Lucilius’ erect penis peeked out the hem of his underwear.

Had the circumstances been different, had he not been furious with the demon and wished nothing more than to knee him in the stomach, Lucilius would have gladly surrendered to the warm ebbs and flows of pleasure washing over him. It took every ounce of his self control not to buck his hips to increase contact. The bastard didn’t even bother with freeing his erection from his underwear. But Belial’s warm breaths blown over the bundle of packed nerve endings at his tip alone was enough to make him twist and whine. 

He was close, accumulated pressure threatening to spill between his legs the very moment Belial took him into his mouth. That alone would be enough. But Belial was cunning. A single butterfly kiss landed on bare skin as if promising release, then the demon’s mouth left his groin completely. It left between them a disorienting emptiness. Lucilius couldn’t shake the tears of frustration from his eyes fast enough. 

The sight of them made Belial's pupils narrow into slits. Self control crisply snapped in the back of his head. _More_. He wanted more tears. Wanted to see his high and mighty master dragged below his level, smeared in the mud of debauchery and his pride in tatters. 

“You want it, don't you. My mouth around your cock, milking every last drop of cum till you're spent. Be honest, and that sweet relief is yours.”

Belial's voice rumbled from deep in his chest, whispers came out hot and moist as it tickled Lucilius’ ear. Lucilius felt static prickling his skin, back arching in an instinctive effort to hide himself from more sensory assaults that he knew would go nowhere. But the demon had already had him pried open and spread out, like a butterfly in a frame pinned open at its wingtips. Escape was simply out of the question. 

Ignoring how heat was dripping out of him onto his own lower abdomen, or how his blood rushed to meet Belial's lips whenever they found purchase against his skin, Lucilius grimaced, turning his head to the side. He was already in the foulest of moods when this hubris began. There was had no stomach left for it to sour any further at the prospect of losing to his own lap dog. 

Belial clicked his tongue. 

“Genius that you are, you really don't know when to give up, do you? Oh, right. My master still doesn’t know how voice his desires.”

It was getting harder and harder for Lucilius to smother his whimpers as another string of stinging kisses crept along his jawline. Especially when Belial kept whispering in that stupid, husky tone; seduction breathed in searing puffs of heat and moisture into his skin. 

“Well, if you don’t really want it, I can just leave you be. Let your libido grow stale and wilt in the cold. After all, my goal was to simply stop you from overexerting yourself.”

Belial didn’t need to look up to tell know how Lucilius’ face twisted with disgust at the barefaced lie. He was more occupied with driving his master insane with little ministrations of his mouth, advancing at a maddeningly slow pace. With Lucilius’ pale neck and jawline covered in blue, purple and red marks like embroidered silk, the demon moved back down. A bruise blossomed within the dimple just beneath is collar bone; another near the divet of his armpit; lips closing around stiffened nipples, greedily pulling them in to meet nibbling teeth and rolling tongue. 

By the time Belial was done painting his abdomen with hickeys (while strategically avoiding his strained erection), Lucilius was a sobbing, twitching mess. A quiver of that swollen, bitten bottom lip framed by tear trails was all it took for the demon to snap. He lunged forward, crashing their lips together with bruising force.

“Hmph!” 

Lucilius’ moan was somewhere between a pained whimper and a cry of indignation. Weakened as he was, Belial could easily pry his jaws open and hungrily shove his tongue inside. It was messy, urgent, _desperate_. Belial swallowed their mixed saliva and sucked on his master’s tongue as if he couldn’t drink in his cries fast enough. Lucilius had long abandoned all self-restraint, now fervently meeting every stimulus in the hopes of each one pushing him just a bit, inch by inch, closer to the climax the accursed demon had denied him. Bony hips rutted upwards, desperate for their crotches to make contact. But Belial still had just enough control left in him to dodge the effort. He just had to torment Lucilius one last time. 

Lucilius hissed a curse through his teeth. The tears, drool and deep scarlet desire on his face betrayed any attempt to seem the least bit threatening.

“Son of a bitch! Stop wasting time and get on with it!”

“Ah, ah, ah~. Not before you learn how to ask nicely.”

Belial’s pelvis was already settled between Lucilius’ thighs, strained erection pushing through two layers of fabric to grind at the tight hole of his master’s ass and yet, he insisted on this charade of endurance. Lucilius’ chest heaved with equal parts lust and anger.

“ _Fuck_ you!”

“You won’t. So long as that sour attitude remains, anyway.”

He couldn’t tell if he was ready to burst from sexual frustration or murderous intent. But Belial’s thumb swiping over the leaking tip of his cock soon rendered his mind blank, breath caught in his throat. The strokes were _infuriatingly_ slow, masterfully toeing the line just enough to build up more pleasure but inhibit release. Lucilius’ pride frayed at the edges as his mind went fuzzy, electricity coursing through his veins.

“Say it, _Lucilius_.”

Belial’s voice was surprisingly void of mockery. It was loving, _encouraging_. Half coaxing, half pleading for Lucilius to final lower his barriers. The unfamiliarity of that tone made Lucilius tremble.

“...Belial.”

“Yes, love?”

“Please…”

“Go on, you’re doing great.” - Belial affectionately nuzzled a milky white thigh.

“Touch me… Just… Fuck me already, you whore.”

Of course Lucilius couldn’t ask for anything without lacing in at least one insult. Belial’s laughter bounced off the granite walls of their dwelling in echoes. Lucilius shot him a glare that went ignored.

“Good boy.”

The demon’s smile promptly turned heinous as he hauled both of Lucilius’ legs over his shoulders. Their pants had disappeared from their lower halfs at some point, leaving leaking arousals exposed and pressed flush against each other - Belial’s monstrously thick girth all the more apparent juxtaposed with Lucilius’ more modest one. But they did not stay in contact for long. 

Belial made quick work of preparing Lucilius’ ass for receiving him, being careful to avoid the prostate still before lathering himself up with lubricant. Lucilius’ fingers dug painfully into the mattress underneath him, nails bent and knuckles going white in anxious anticipation. Then his toes curled in on themselves when Belial’s cock began to _split_ him open. The demon winced at the rigid clench of his master’s rectal muscles around his cock. 

_Tight_. He had been impatient with the prep work. But even this did little to dampen his spirit. Belial persevered, even as tear-choked little whimpers spilled from Lucilius’ lips. He tried to get his master to relax with feather-like kisses along his thigh and massaging circles into his hips. 

Being stretched to near breaking-point made Lucilius writhe. His muscles screamed spasms from the strain while not healed completely. Belial’s efforts did get him to loosen up, but he was left little time to catch his breath before the demon had taken the opportunity to slide his entire length in. Even if all he felt then was pain, at last, Lucilius was thankfully, inexorably, filled. 

“Hng...M…”

“...Yeah?” - Belial grunted, still adjusting to the tight fit.

“...Ugh… Move… already!”

Lucilius’ demand sounded more like a plea. One that he immediately regretted. Because given the greenlight, Belial’s hips began to slam into the back of his thighs in accelerating, unrelenting bucks of his hips. He squirmed, no longer able to tell if he was trying to worm away from the obscene thickness or grind himself further _down,_ deepening the thrusts. Heat rapidly pooled in his lower stomach, pooled out of him in ragged breaths, pitiful gasps and moans and muffled sobs. It was _frustrating,_ being bound and helpless at Belial’s mercy, utterly led along by his pace. All Lucilius could do was fervently wish the demon needed this as much as he did, that he would not suddenly pull away in a sudden bout of cruelty. His rational mind knew the prospect was unlikely, but his rational mind at that point was a jumbled, short-circuiting mess. His ears had gone deaf to the sound of his own screams.

While Lucilius was still struggling to maintain his hold on fragmented reason, Belial had long forsaken all semblances of it. There was no compulsion to relent his thrusts, Lucilius must _feel_ every last inch of his length drilling into him, owning him; vocalise his pleasure and completely abandon himself to lust before the demon would stop. He revelled in how Lucilius miserably writhed in his hold, how he tried to twist his wrists out of their bondage to regain some control but failed. Lucilius’ suffering was supposed to be reserved for him and him alone, not displayed for the likes of punitive, insignificant mortal hordes. Seized by sudden rage and possessiveness at the memory, the pace of his thrusts quickened, to Lucilius’ dismay and silent screams. 

The last shove before he spilled inside Lucilius was deep. Belial made sure every drop of his semen filled him to bursting. Goosebumps broke across his skin as a shudder ran down his spine. The demon hadn’t noticed how Lucilius’ cum had pooled at his belly, spent penis laying flat against it. Nor did he realise when Lucilius had fallen unconscious. Pulling away caused some of the semen inside him to spill onto the mattress. Belial sighed.

“Well, looks like it worked. Good night again, Cili.”

Gently laying an unbound Lucilius on his couch, Belial then took to changing the beddings. Blessed with regenerative capabilities or not, he could use the rest of the night trying to come up with ways to talk Lucilius out of castrating him tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> My twitter @appuru_chan for people who would like to come yell at me


End file.
